


discipline

by blazeofglory



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: “Well… I suppose even good boys need a little discipline sometimes.”
Relationships: John Bridgens/Henry "Harry" Peglar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: The Terror Bingo





	discipline

**Author's Note:**

> my first fill for the terror bingo (tingo)! for the square "you did so well." 
> 
> just one content warning for dirty talk using the word "slut," which is fully consensual and fun.

“You make me _crazy,_ ” Harry says the second they get inside the apartment, pressing close to John, already untucking his shirt with eager hands. “Every time, every fucking time we go to these lessons, I just— _god_ , I just want you so badly.” 

“You have me,” John replies softly, easily backing Harry up against the door and caging him in with arms on either side of his head. “And I have you.” 

John kisses him hard, and Harry moans into it, already _desperate_ as John bites his bottom lip and licks into Harry’s mouth. They’ve been taking tango lessons—something John had apparently always wanted to do, and had mentioned on a whim once, so Harry signed them up for lessons—and John can _dance_. He makes it look _easy_ , and he looks damn good as he does it, and being in his arms as he leads the dance is _heady_. Each time they leave the ballroom where they practice, Harry is at least half-hard and has to hide it, barely able to resist the urge to suck John’s cock in the Lyft on their way home. 

John ducks down to kiss Harry’s neck, nipping sharply at his skin, and Harry clings to John’s shirt with tight fists. 

“ _John_ ,” Harry moans, arching his neck to give his lover more space to lick and suck and bite. “ _God_ , John, you’re perfect.”

John sucks at Harry’s skin, surely leaving a bruise behind, and Harry gasps, rolling his hips up, grinding against John’s leg pressed between his own. John reaches down, his big hand holding Harry’s thigh, and he tugs it _up_ , holding Harry in place, pinned against the door, and John _slowly_ grinds their cocks together through their pants. 

“Beautiful,” John praises, smiling at Harry as he caresses his bearded cheek. Harry, a bit dazed, smiles back. “You’re a good boy, Harry.” 

Harry _shivers,_ breaking eye contact as he flushes from the praise. 

“John…” Harry swallows thickly, and John gently tilts Harry’s chin back up so their eyes meet again. Harry bites his lip, then corrects himself in a quiet voice, “ _Daddy.”_

John’s smile brightens. “Do you want something, my love?” 

Sure of John’s hold on him, Harry braces his shoulders against the door as he lifts his other leg to hook around John’s hips as well. John laughs quietly, dropping his hand from Harry’s face to hold his thigh. Harry drapes his arms around John’s neck and _grins_. 

“I want you to carry me to bed,” Harry says. “Then you can lead from there.” 

With the same ease as leading Harry onto the dancefloor earlier this evening, John easily carries Harry in his arms as he leads him to the bedroom. John is so much _bigger_ than Harry, taller and broader, and he has such _strong_ arms. The very first time that John had literally swept Harry off his feet, Harry had nearly swooned. 

It’s not all that far of a distance from the front door of their apartment to their bed, and Harry spends the time kissing John’s neck, distracting his lover to the point of nearly steering them both into the wall. As Harry’s shoulder bumps a corner, John apologizes, but Harry only laughs, hardly even noticing. 

When they reach the bed, John drops Harry onto the mattress on his back, and they both laugh as Harry bounces. 

“Hello, darling,” John says, following Harry down onto the bed, his expert hands working quickly on the buttons of Harry’s shirt. He leans down, kissing each inch of exposed skin, as he says softly, “I have never seen a man so beautiful in all my life.” 

“Daddy,” Harry breathes out, blushing bright red. “I need—” 

“I know,” John replies, glancing up at Harry for a moment with a smile. “I’ll give you everything you need.” 

John pushes away the fabric of Harry’s open shirt, caressing Harry’s chest, then he suddenly pinches both nipples hard, and Harry _yells_ , pleasure and pain spiking through him. God, he _loves_ it when John gets rough. 

“Beautiful,” John murmurs, sitting up astride Harry’s hips to stare down at him, watching the flush rise on Harry’s chest. John pinches _tighter_ , and Harry’s hips jerk up as he moans. “Oh, my sweet boy, you’re so responsive.” 

Harry covers his face with his hands, hiding his blush and his embarrassment at just how much he _likes_ being touched like this and _talked to_ like this. 

John’s hands move, caressing Harry’s sensitive nipples gently, then one hand moving up to tug Harry’s own hands away from his face. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, my love,” John says, caressing Harry’s face; Harry leans into the touch. “You’re absolutely perfect.” 

Harry bites his lip, holding John’s adoring gaze. In a soft voice, he asks, “Do you want to fuck me, daddy?” 

John smiles. “I’ve wanted to fuck you all night.” 

Harry blushes again, _pleased_. He sits up, finally getting his shirt off and tossing it to the ground, while John makes quick work of tugging Harry’s jeans open and off. Harry wants to get John naked too, wants to kiss every tattoo he can, but John tightens his grip on Harry’s hips, keeping him in place. 

“Roll over,” John says, voice low, and he loosens his grip. Harry complies immediately, barely resisting the urge to grind his hard cock down against the mattress. He spreads his legs shamelessly, and he can _feel_ John’s hot gaze dragging down his back. 

“Good boy,” John praises, stroking his hands down Harry’s back, then cupping his ass. 

“John,” Harry speaks up tentatively, a little nervous, even though John has been on board with _every desire_ he’s expressed. “I know I—I’ve been good. But maybe you could…” 

John gently strokes the soft, sensitive skin of Harry’s ass. “Maybe I could what, my love?” 

“Oh, as if you can’t tell exactly where this is going,” Harry laughs, and John chuckles too. He looks over his shoulder at John, raising a teasing brow. “Will you spank me or not?” 

“Well… I suppose even good boys need a little discipline sometimes.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry agrees immediately, nodding enthusiastically even as he turns away again. “Discipline me.” 

John snorts softly, and then without warning, his gentle caress comes to an end as he lifts his hand and spanks Harry _hard_ , the loud slap deafening in the quiet of their bedroom—though immediately rivaled by Harry’s loud moan. The pain blooms, sudden and hot, and pleasure spikes through Harry’s entire body. He’s always liked a rough touch, but he’s never—they’ve never… 

_God_ , Harry likes it. 

“Oh, sweet boy, I should have known how much you would enjoy this,” John says, then spanks Harry again, and again, and _again_. Harry can only moan and gasp—every time he starts to grind his hard cock down against the mattress, John stills his movements with a strong hand on his hip. “Stay still, Harry. You want to be good, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Harry breathes out, surprised by the strain in his own voice. “Daddy, it’s so— _fuck_ , it hurts.” 

John stills his hand for a moment, gently massaging Harry’s hot, stinging skin. For a moment, Harry thinks that John is going to express concern—but they have a safeword, and Harry isn’t even close to uttering it. 

“It’s supposed to hurt,” John says simply, then spanks Harry _hard_ , and Harry lets out a sharp gasp. “It’s a punishment, darling.” 

“I—what did I do wrong?” Harry asks, voice wavering. He knows he _asked_ for this, but he still finds himself wracking his brain for what he could have possibly done wrong to earn a punishment. He’s been _good_. 

Each hit brings tears to Harry’s eyes, and they threaten to spill over. 

“Oh, Harry,” John says, soft and sweet. “This is for being a slut.” 

Without even being touched, Harry _moans_ , and the tears begin to fall, soaking the pillow his red face is pressed into. He feels _wild_. He can’t string together a single coherent thought. 

John spanks him again, hard and stinging, and Harry _cries._

“You’re desperate for it,” John murmurs, one hand pressed to Harry’s lower back, pinning him to the bed. “Every day, you get on your knees and you beg for my cock. You can’t get enough, can you? You _need_ it. And now you need _this?_ You’re a greedy slut, baby. What would you do without your daddy?” 

“ _Daddy,”_ Harry practically howls, overwhelmed and _so fucking hard._ “I’m yours, I’m your slut! Please—” 

John spanks Harry _hard_. “Please _what?”_

“Please, daddy,” Harry sobs. “Please fuck me, _daddy_ , please, I need it.” 

John squeezes Harry’s ass with both hands, and Harry moans at the pain and pleasure of the touch. He hasn’t been this hyperaware of his own ass since the day John first ate him out. 

“I see why you’re such a slut,” John says, _casually_ , like they’re discussing the latest novel he’s been reading. “It’s because I indulge you, isn’t it? I spoil you rotten.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry agrees enthusiastically, then sniffles. “Spoil me, daddy, please. You’re so good to me, you give me everything I need. _Please_.” 

John pulls away for a moment, and Harry only has enough time to wipe away his overwhelmed tears before John is back, one hand gentle on Harry’s stinging ass. Two slick fingertips press at Harry’s entrance, and he squirms. 

“Is this what you need, darling?” John asks softly. 

“ _Yes_ , daddy,” Harry whines, rolling his hips, his achingly hard cock getting little relief from the soft mattress. “ _Please_.” 

Slowly, so fucking _slowly_ , John slides both fingers inside. _God_ , it’s overwhelming. Harry feels _so much_. 

“How’s that?” John asks, once his fingers are fully inside, and Harry feels so _full_. John squeezes Harry’s ass _hard_ , and the spike of pain makes Harry moan desperately. 

“It’s—it’s good,” Harry gasps out. 

John starts moving his fingers, still so maddeningly slow, and Harry cries out. He feels like a damn _mess_ like this, face down and crying into his pillow, with his ass spanked red and exposed, his legs spread wide for his lover. He wonders, for a second, how John’s fingers must look, sinking so deep inside him. 

John has such _lovely_ fingers; one of these days, Harry should ask him to take a picture of the sight. 

“Maybe you don’t need my cock tonight, Harry,” John says in a soothing voice, still steadily fucking Harry with his fingers. “You’ve been good, my sweet boy, but I don’t think you can take more.” 

“No, no, I can,” Harry objects immediately. “I can take it, daddy, _please_.”

John makes a considering noise, and then Harry _groans_ as John slides another finger inside. 

“ _Fuck_.”

“Good?” John asks, then laughs softly. “I should have known a sweet little slut like you could handle more.” 

John moves his fingers _harder_ all of a sudden, fucking Harry so _deep_ , he can’t help but let out a loud moan. Fuck, the stretch is so _much_ , and Harry can’t even _think_ when John is fingering him like this, fast and deep, nailing his prostate, driving him _fucking crazy_. He wants John’s cock—he _always_ wants John’s cock—but John is right, this is already too much, and then—

Right as John drives his fingers in hard, he slaps Harry’s ass with his free hand, and Harry _screams_ and _comes_. The mix of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, intoxicating, fucking _crazy_. All Harry knows is that he feels _amazing_ , pleasure centered on his sore ass and _inside_ him as he grinds against the bed, sweaty and panting and screaming. 

It’s a long moment before Harry blinks his eyes open, squirming a little, clenching around John’s fingers still inside him. 

“I take it you liked that?” John asks, amusement in his voice, and Harry laughs breathlessly. 

“A bit, yeah,” he answers, then sniffles, distantly aware of the mess of tears on his cheeks. 

John’s free hand is on Harry’s back now, rubbing his sweaty skin. “Do you want me to pull out, my love?” 

Harry considers it for a second. 

“No,” he answers, shifting his aching limbs until he’s on his knees, head still on the pillow. He cranes his neck to look at John behind him, offering a cheeky grin. “I told you I want you to fuck me, John.” 

“Mm, that you did.” Slowly, he removes his fingers, then grabs Harry’s ass with both hands and _spreads_. 

God, Harry feels exposed. He hides his red face in the pillow. 

“Beautiful,” John murmurs. “This is going to hurt.” 

“ _Please_.” 

It’s just a moment while John finally sheds his clothes and slicks up his cock, and then he’s pressing the head to Harry’s hole and Harry shifts back, _taking_ it. Obviously encouraged by Harry’s eagerness, John snaps his hips, burying his cock inside Harry in one smooth movement, and Harry cries out as he’s suddenly stretched and filled so fucking perfectly. It _burns_. 

John grabs Harry’s hips, squeezing gently once, and then he tightens his grip and starts _moving_ , fucking Harry hard with no preamble. All Harry can do is grasp at the pillow under his hands, breathing hard and unable to stop moaning as John gives him _everything_ and Harry fucking _takes it_. He _loves_ it like this, when John doesn’t bother to control himself and be gentle—Harry loves the times that John is gentle, of course, but there’s just _something_ about him like this, when he holds Harry tight and drives his thick cock inside him with no worries about how well Harry will be able to walk tomorrow. 

Harry’s never felt this _wanted_ by anyone before. No one’s ever touched him with this much desire, nor this sense of _possession_. 

God, Harry never even _wanted_ to be possessed before, but now he can’t get enough of it. He is _John’s_ , and that’s how he likes it. He’d do anything for his John, the love of his life, his _daddy_ —and he knows John would do anything for him too. He knows that John is _his_ and his alone, and John is _always_ going to be his. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry moans as John grinds his cock _deep_ inside him. “Oh, John, I—I love you.” 

John groans, grip tightening on Harry’s hips. He’s breathless, finally seeming to lose his composure, as he replies, “I love you too, Harry. You’re so… _god_. You feel like heaven inside.” 

“Heaven?” Harry repeats in breathless amusement. “Is this worship?” 

“I believe it’s technically sin,” John says, just as amused. “But oh, Harry, you know I worship you.” 

Harry moans, clenching around John’s cock. He’s so _sensitive_ inside, but it feels so _good_. He might be hard again, but he’s too out of it to even really tell. 

“ _Daddy_ ,” Harry moans. 

John thrusts harder, the whole bed jolting, headboard slamming into the wall—they’ve dented the drywall before from this very activity, but neither of them give a fuck about their security deposit right now. The whole building could come crashing down around them, and Harry doesn’t think they would notice. They certainly wouldn’t _stop_. 

John reaches around, wrapping his hand around Harry’s hard cock, and Harry groans at the touch. He’s so on _edge_ , it hardly takes more than a touch before he’s coming again, muffling his shout into the pillow. 

Then John tightens his grip on Harry’s hips once more, driving his cock in hard, and he comes with a loud moan, spilling deep inside Harry, who moans as he’s filled. 

“God,” John groans, gasping for breath. He pulls out slowly, his hands gentler now as they caress Harry’s sore ass. 

The second John pulls back, Harry stretches his legs out, going boneless on the bed. John lays down next to him, his clean hand pushing Harry’s hair back and cupping his flushed cheek. Harry, tired and pleased and incredibly in love, smiles softly as he leans into the touch. 

“You did so well,” John praises, and Harry blushes. 

“ _You_ did well,” Harry replies, smiling sleepily. “Your improv was truly spectacular.” 

John chuckles. “I’ll think of something better to punish you for next time.” 

“Oh, next time?” Harry tilts his head a little, making it rather clear that he’s angling for a kiss, and John smiles as he leans in obligingly, kissing Harry softly. 

“Yes, next time,” John says, kissing Harry’s cheek. “Once your ass has recovered from _this_ time.” 

“Mm, may be a while.” Harry shifts a little, wincing. “How am I supposed to _sit_ tomorrow?” 

John strokes Harry’s hair, spoiling him with his sweet affectionate touches. “Take the day off, spend it in bed.” 

Harry chuckles again, tired eyes slipping shut. Every muscle in his body feels _exhausted_ —he abruptly remembers that they’d been dancing tonight, and he’d been tired before they even got to bed. 

“Will you spend the day with me?” he asks softly. 

“Of course, love,” John replies softly. He kisses Harry’s forehead, then moves to shift back, but Harry reaches out, grabbing John’s arm and opening his eyes as he frowns at him. 

“Where are you going?” Harry whines. 

John raises a brow, smiling. “To get you some lotion, darling.” 

“Can’t it wait?” Harry moves closer, and John follows his lead, turning onto his back and wrapping his arm around Harry as Harry drapes himself over John, head on his chest, an arm and a leg slung over John. They’re both sweaty, but neither of them mind one bit. John holds Harry in his arms, and Harry breathes out slowly, absolutely content.

Belatedly, John answers, “I suppose it can wait.” 

Harry kisses John’s chest. “Good.” 

“Dancing works you up like this?” John asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“ _You_ dancing,” Harry replies, unembarrassed, smiling against John’s chest as he runs his fingers through his lover’s chest hair. “God, John, you’re so _hot_.” 

John chuckles. “Will you be able to make it through the wedding without pouncing?” 

Grinning, laughing, Harry replies, “No, I doubt I will. We’ll have to take a break mid-reception and scandalize all our guests.” 

“We can break in the honeymoon suite a few hours early,” John says, and they both laugh harder. “The guests can entertain themselves.” 

“Perfect,” Harry declares, smiling so hard his cheeks ache. “I can’t wait.” 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you liked this one! and subscribe for more bingo fills to come!
> 
> i am also on twitter @blazeofglry!


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